


Corazon

by inkandpaperqwerty



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Caretaker Hotch, Episode Tag, Family, Family Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Parental Hotch, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25265281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpaperqwerty/pseuds/inkandpaperqwerty
Summary: Spencer tries to work despite his headache, but Hotch catches wind of his teammate's suffering. Surprisingly, Hotch has a pretty good idea of how he can help Spencer. All Spencer has to do is be willing to accept the help.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 235





	Corazon

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't like how they handled Spencer's headaches in the series. As someone who has suffered from headaches and migraines almost her whole life, I thought the whole 'psychosomatic' answer was a little ridiculous. So, here's my idea of how things could have been handled. I hope you enjoy!

_“I pretended to have a headache in order to distract him.”_

_“Pretended?”_

_“Yeah, pretended.”_

* * *

“Pretended, huh?”

Spencer caught his breath for half a second and then heaved again, bracing his arm against the back of the toilet. His other hand came up to his head and hovered around his eyes to shield them from the fluorescent lights in the bathroom.

“Did you take anything?”

Spencer sucked down a lungful of air and slowly let it out, trying to look over his shoulder at Hotch. “I’ve been—” He stopped, swallowing through the urge to gag. “I’ve been having headaches.”

“That doesn’t tell me if you took anything.” Hotch reached past Spencer’s head and pushed the handle to flush the toilet. “I have painkillers, if you think you can keep them down.”

Spencer flinched and covered his ears, his eyes screwed shut. “I don’t—” He shook his head faintly, and his stomach roiled from the pain. “I don’t think mixing me and painkillers is such a good idea.”

Hotch didn’t seem bothered by the notion. “It’s just Excedrin. You’ll be fine.”

Spencer wasn’t so sure, but Hotch wasn’t waiting around for Spencer to think things through.

“Come on.” Hotch took Spencer by the arm and tugged, trying to get him to stand. “Let’s get you laying down.”

Spencer cautiously got to his feet, reaching up and pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. “Yeah, maybe—” He swallowed hard. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

Hotch didn’t say anything, and Spencer dropped his hands from his eyes, squinting against the light. He saw concern creasing Hotch’s brow, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying.

Hotch didn’t seem to care about that. “You alright?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes, but he didn’t keep them covered. He looked toward the bathroom exit and started to walk. “Yeah… I’m alright…”

Hotch let go of Spencer’s arm and followed him out of the men’s room. “Once we get on the jet, I’ll help you deal with the migraine.”

Spencer didn’t respond, not wanting to move his head or speak. He didn’t like the idea of burdening his team with his headaches. He didn’t like the thought of potentially being babied, either, especially by Hotch. But the pain…

_Hopefully, the doctor will have something to tell me when I get back. Maybe I can be done with these headaches for good._

* * *

Spencer jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, coming to a sudden stop halfway up the stairs to the jet. “Huh?”

“Just me.” Hotch smiled faintly, brow creased with concern. “How’s your head?”

“It’s fine.” Spencer continued up the steps and entered the jet, making a beeline for the empty couch. He reached up to rub at his eyes, sitting down with a heavy sigh. “It’s not that bad.”

Hotch chuckled softly and set a plastic shopping bag on the couch next to Spencer. “I’ll assume that means you’re doing terrible.” He started rummaging through the bag, pulling out a bottle of water. “I got some things at the store.”

Spencer took the offered bottle of water and looked at it. He was thirsty, but his stomach was still unsettled, and his pain was getting worse, not better. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep anything down.

Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of Excedrin, pouring out four tablets and handing them over.

Spencer hesitantly reached out and took the offered medicine. “Um… is that the right dosage?” He looked at the pills in his hand, and he wished he had a free hand to rub his temple.

“You have a migraine,” Hotch said, like that explained everything. “We bend dosage rules when it comes to migraines.”

Spencer frowned, not entirely sure how he felt about that statement, but he did as he was told. He opened the water bottle, put the tablets in his mouth, and washed them down. They seemed to settle in his stomach alright, and he hoped they could stay down long enough to be effective.

“Thanks,” Spencer muttered, putting the lid back on the water bottle and setting it aside.

“Mhm.” Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glass bottle. “This is peppermint oil. Apply it wherever you have pain, but keep it away from your eyes. It will _burn._ ”

Spencer blinked a few times, taking the tiny bottle and looking it over. “But… most of my pain is behind my eyes.”

Hotch winced sympathetically. “Cluster migraine, then.”

Spencer only blinked some more. “Huh?”

“Just a name.” Hotch waved it off, a faint smile pulling on the corner of his mouth. “A migraine by any other name will hurt just as bad.”

Spencer had to smile a little at that, and he got the idea Hotch planned it that way.

“Put the oil on your temples and browbone,” Hotch instructed, pulling a little cardboard box from his bag.

Spencer did as he was told, putting the oil on his fingers and rubbing it into the affected areas. Almost immediately, his skin began to tingle and… almost burn cold… like the holistic version of IcyHot only… icier.

“Whew.” Spencer blinked a few times and sniffed, his eyes watering from the fumes. “That’s some strong stuff.”

Hotch only smiled at the statement and held out a pair of ear plugs. “Put these in.”

Spencer took them, feeling a bit embarrassed at the attention he was receiving. “Hotch—”

“Trust me, Reid.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, but he ultimately took the earplugs and started squeezing them. He put one in and continued rolling its twin between his fingers.

“Hey, Hotch.” Morgan pointed to the headphones hanging around his neck. “These are noise-cancelling. Would that help?”

Spencer looked across the jet, once again feeling embarrassed. “No, it’s fine. It’s—it’s just a headache.”

Morgan ignored him and pulled the headphones off, holding them out to Hotch.

Hotch took a few steps and retrieved the headphones before walking back to the couch.

Spencer let out a soft sigh and put the other earplug in, the sounds around him growing muted. _That feels a little better._

Seaver stood up from her seat then, holding up a finger in the universal request for a minute of patience. “I have a blanket and pillow you can use.”

Spencer felt a twinge in his chest, torn between appreciating the help and being humiliated by it. “You don’t have to get anything. I’m really okay. It’s—it’s just a headache.”

Much like Morgan, Seaver ignored Spencer’s protests and pulled a gray bundle down from the overhead storage. “It’s not a big deal. I wasn’t planning on using them.”

Spencer caught the pillow and quickly positioned it on one end of the couch. “Thanks.” He offered a weak smile and laid down, wrestling with the blanket for a moment before managing to get it wrapped around his legs.

Hotch waited patiently until Spencer was settled, and then he held out an eye mask and explained, “You better put this on before the headphones.”

Spencer took the eye mask and cautiously put it on before holding out his hands for the headphones. He felt them touch his hands and grabbed on, maneuvering them onto his head and settling down in the cushions. Overhead, someone said something along the lines of, ‘Get some sleep,’ but Spencer couldn’t quite make it out.

_This is… kinda nice._

It wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement—private or not, no plane was designed for comfort—but it was comfortable enough. Spencer had slept on the couch in the jet before, and with how worn down he felt, he hoped it wouldn’t take long for him to be carried off to sleep.

He still felt like someone was performing a frontal lobotomy on him with a screwdriver, but the headphones, earplugs, and eye mask seemed to diminish the pain at least somewhat. His face was tingling and burning from the oil he had put on, and the cooling sensation it brought seemed to ease his pain a little.

Spencer was still going over the list of improvements when he fell asleep.

* * *

“Well, you look better. How are you feeling?”

Spencer wet his lips, closing the door to Hotch’s office behind him. “Um, I feel a lot better.” He rubbed the back of his head. “It, uh, it kept me up for most of the night, but, um, but after that…” He cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward. “I feel better. Thanks.”

Hotch smiled from where he sat behind his desk. “Good.” He folded his arms and rested them on his desk, leaning forward. “You said you’ve been having headaches, as in plural. A lot?”

Spencer rubbed his temple at the mere thought of his next headache. “Yeah.” He shifted uncomfortably. “At least three days a week.”

Hotch pressed his lips together and offered a slight nod. “You might have to start carrying a headache kit with you.”

Spencer didn’t say anything for a moment, debating whether or not to share his doctor’s findings. “They did an MRI.” He swallowed hard. “But they, uh… they couldn’t find anything wrong. They think…” Spencer took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “They think it might be psychosomatic.”

Hotch arched a brow at that, a mixture of confusion and disapproval on his face. “That seems like a hasty diagnosis. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and you consume more caffeine than any human could ever possibly need. I’m surprised you haven’t had headaches before this.”

“They aren’t just headaches, Hotch. They’re…” Spencer lifted his hand slightly, gesturing vaguely at his own face. “They’re really bad.”

“I know.” Hotch shrugged his shoulders. “My mother used to clench her jaw when she was stressed, and the resulting tension in her muscles gave her headaches so bad she couldn’t get out of bed.”

Spencer perked up a little bit at that, a flicker of hope stirring in his chest. “Really?”

Hotch nodded a few times. “You just have to learn what works for you and how to plan ahead. Keep painkillers on you at all times, and when you feel a headache coming on, take a prescription-strength dose. Or higher.”

Spencer hesitated, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. “I don’t… know if that would be such a good idea. Given my… history.”

Hotch took a moment to process the words, and then he nodded. “Well, I always keep painkillers on me. If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can just tell me when you feel a headache coming on, and I’ll dispense the medicine. I have some experience in the ways of migraine dosage.”

Spencer blinked in surprise, cautiously hopeful. “You… wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not.” Hotch seemed almost offended. “Did you think I would?”

Spencer struggled with himself for a moment, but he eventually managed to stutter out, “Well, it’s—it’s not exactly a… professional arrangement.”

“This team has plenty of those.” Hotch’s lips were still pulled into a faint smile. “Just let me know when you feel a headache coming on, and I’ll help you out in whatever way I can.”

Spencer thought about the offer for another moment, and then he slowly started to nod. “Okay. I can do that.” He turned and started toward the office door, stopping halfway and turning back around to look at Hotch. “You really don’t think it’s psychosomatic? Or… something more serious?”

“No, I don’t. Of course, I’m not a doctor.” Hotch shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair slightly. “I just know from experience that you can get migraines or headaches for any number of reasons, and most of them aren’t serious. Like I said, my mother clenched her jaw. Haley got them before and during her period. I went to college with a guy who got headaches hereditarily; everyone in his immediate family struggled with headaches.”

Spencer wet his lips, feeling slightly encouraged by what Hotch was saying. Sure, Hotch wasn’t a doctor, but Hotch was intelligent, and he was someone Spencer trusted immensely. If he didn’t think the reason was serious, well…

“I had debilitating headaches in high school. Thankfully, because of my mother’s background, she was able to help me get on top of them. They don’t show up nearly as often as they used to, but there are times when I feel them coming, and I know if I didn’t have a plan in place, I would be bedridden for at least a day.”

Spencer thought about that for a moment, and then he offered a little nod. “Thanks, Hotch.” He smiled a little—just a quirk in the corner of his mouth—and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I feel better about the situation.”

Hotch smiled kindly. “Good.”

Spencer nodded his head with a brief smile, and then he went to leave the room. He once again stopped before he got to the door when he heard Hotch clear his throat.

“It goes without saying that I don’t want you to mention what I told you about Haley to anyone. I know she’s not here, but she would be so embarrassed if she knew anyone found out.”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, and he nodded his head in agreement. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good.” Hotch smiled briefly and then got back to his work.

Spencer finished walking to the door and opened it up, letting himself out. He walked back to his desk with a smile lingering on his lips.

Maybe he didn’t know why he was getting headaches, and maybe they would be a new obstacle he was going to have to learn to deal with, but no matter what happened, his team would be there for him. Like they always had been, and like they always would be. Of that, he was certain.


End file.
